


Secrets Kept, Secrets Revealed

by etymolodrarry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Drarry, Established Relationship, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Magical Theory (Harry Potter), Not Canon Compliant, Not Epilogue Compliant, Relationship Reveal, Secret Relationship, Sneaking Around, harry and draco are being sneaky sneaky, they get caught tho oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28409316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etymolodrarry/pseuds/etymolodrarry
Summary: Harry and Draco decided to keep their relationship a secret until they were ready—unfortunately, they didn't do the best job of hiding it.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 18
Kudos: 521





	1. Secrets Kept, Part I

"Just grab my hand!"

"I can't _reach_ your hand—why the hell are you so bloody short?"

"It's called _genetics_ , you prat! Can't you just use a levitating charm?"

"What, you want me to _wingardium leviosa_ you into my bedroom? Are you _stupid_ , Potter?"

Harry huffed. "Featherlight charm, Malfoy. Just trust me."

 _“_ Fine. _Alevigo, wingardium leviosa."_

Harry grasped the window sill and hauled himself up, pulling himself into the room. Losing his balance, he tumbled onto the floor, landing on his back. Slightly out of breath, he righted himself and brushed off his clothes. "See? I knew what I was doing."

Draco crossed his arms. “You do this often, then?”

Harry was about to answer when he jumped at the sound of knocking at the door.

"Draco? Are you alright?" Mrs. Malfoy's voice was muffled through the door. 

Draco looked to Harry in a panic. "Yes, mum!" 

She hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I—er, fell off the bed," he lied, and shoved Harry as his shoulders started to shake with suppressed laughter. 

"Alright. Goodnight, Draco."

"Night, mum."

Harry strained his ears to listen for her retreating footsteps before breathing a sigh of relief. "I missed you," he whispered to Draco, and frowned when Draco didn't respond. "Aren't you going to say you missed me too?"

Draco gave him a smug look. "What makes you sure I missed you?"

"Oh, I dunno," Harry answered sarcastically, "maybe the fact that you _begged_ me to climb through your bedroom window in the middle of the night?"

"It isn't the middle of the night!" He scoffed, “It's ten o'clock!"

"Yeah, which given your sleep schedule, is basically the middle of the night." Harry pointed out. 

Draco folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah well, unlike _some_ people," he looked at Harry pointedly, "I prefer to get a _full night's rest."_

"Is that so?" Harry raised an eyebrow, barely able to keep a straight face. "What'd you invite me over for, then?"

"Oh, shut it," Draco's flush was barely visible in the moonlight streaming in through his window. 

"I mean, I suppose you have plenty of guest rooms I could sleep in…" Harry trailed off and laughed when Draco made a face. 

"Damn it, Potter, get over here," he grumbled, pulling Harry towards him to wrap him in a hug. "I _did_ miss you," he said after a moment, his face tucked into Harry's hair.

"I know."

* * *

"How long do you think we can keep this up?"

Draco propped himself up with a pillow to look at Harry. "What, the fact that you've been sneaking into my bedroom every night?"

Harry laughed. "Yeah. Do you think we can keep it up until Christmas holidays are over? I think Mrs. Weasley is getting suspicious—she's noticed how tired I am during the day," he added when Draco raised an eyebrow. 

_"Oh,_ right," Draco smirked, "because you haven't been getting much _sleep,_ isn't that right?" 

"Mmm, right," Harry reached forward to tuck a lock of hair behind Draco's ear. "Someone has been keeping me up at night, you see." 

"How rude of them," Draco chuckled. 

"I suspect I'm keeping them up just as much, though," Harry continued, pressing a kiss against his ear. 

"You'd be right," Draco's eyes fluttered shut. "My mum is trying to convince me to take sleeping potions," he snorted. "She thinks I have _'insomnia.'"_

Harry frowned. "But sleeping potions are addictive."

"Not the higher-market ones," he shrugged, "they rarer ingredients that don't cause dependence."

"But they'll still be addictive," Harry pointed out, "if you use them too much, you won't be able to fall asleep without them."

"That's a good point," Draco murmured to himself, "I'll mention that if she brings it up again." He looked up and frowned. "What are you going to say if Mrs. Weasley asks about you?"

"Ron and Hermione always deflect those questions for me," Harry smiled ruefully, "they know I have nightmares and don't like talking about them."

Draco sighed. "As much as it _pains_ me to say it, they're good friends."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Soon enough, though, Ron's going to notice that it's been a while since my nightmares have woken him up in the middle of the night."

Draco frowned. "Why would they wake him up?"

"Er," Harry looked down at Draco's dark green bedspread. "Because I usually wake up screaming." 

Draco's eyes widened. "That's—that's horrible." He reached forward and cupped Harry's cheek with his palm. "Is there anything I can do?"

"You already _are_ doing it," Harry smiled, "I don't have nightmares when I'm with you."

"Oh," a smile slowly spread across Draco's face. "Does that mean you want to keep this up, then?"

"Of course," Harry leaned forward to kiss Draco's nose. "It's a win-win—not only do I sleep better than I would at the Burrow, but I _also_ get to see my wonderful _boyfriend._ "

"That is the _sappiest_ thing I've ever heard." Draco wrinkled his nose, lifting his chin slightly, but relented at the soft kisses Harry pressed to his cheek.

“This blush says otherwise,” Harry said cheekily.

* * *

Harry held his breath, wincing at every clatter of dishes he heard from his seat on Draco’s bed, the curtains drawn to hide him from view. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard a hushed, _"it's me,"_ from just beyond the curtains. 

"I think mum is getting suspicious," Draco said as he gently set the tray of food on his bed. "She didn't question _why_ I was bringing food to my room, but she did question why there's _so much."_

Harry snorted. "What'd you tell her?"

"That I didn't feel well during dinner, so I didn’t eat much," he answered, joining Harry on the bed and grabbing a bread roll. 

"I've never eaten this late before," Harry commented as he lifted a piece of treacle tart to his mouth. "I've already brushed my teeth, and everything."

"I used to do this all the time when I was younger," Draco chuckled, "I'd get the house-elves to arrange little trays of food for me late at night and hold imaginary tea parties—you never did anything like that?

"I didn't have access to house-elves, for one," Harry said good-naturedly, "I _was_ the house-elf,” he added under his breath.

Draco frowned at him for a moment, as if finally remembering how different their childhoods were. He tentatively placed his hand on Harry’s knee. "I guess we'll just have to make up for it together," he said finally, taking a sip of his tea, before placing it on a saucer that wouldn’t look out of place with someone’s _‘fancy china’_. 

"What will you do if your parents find out?" Harry asked after a long moment.

"Find out what?"

"You know, about _us_. It's bound to happen, don't you think?"

Draco took a deep breath. "I'm afraid of what they'll say," he confessed. "Their views have changed a lot within the last year, but I'm still worried."

"I know," Harry murmured, resting his head on his hand. "I wonder how my parents would react. I wonder if they'd accept me."

"Professor Lupin was friends with them, right? Why not ask him?"

"That might be a _little_ obvious," Harry laughed. " _‘Hey Remus, do you think my mum and dad would’ve accepted me if I was gay? All hypothetical, of course.’_ "

" _No,_ you idiot, you ask how they reacted to Remus and Sirius's relationship," Draco rolled his eyes. 

" _Oh,_ that makes more sense."

"Honestly, what would you do without me?"

"It's a wonder I'm still alive," Harry grinned at him. 

Draco suddenly cleared his throat, looking down at his cup. "I _was—_ I _was_ thinking of telling my mum soon, though. But I don't know when."

"Really?" Harry raised his eyebrows, reaching forward to grab Draco's hand when he started to pick at his fingernails. "Would that mean we don't have to hide anymore?"

"If all goes well, I suppose not," Draco smiled wryly.

"And _that_ means I can finally hold your hand in public," Harry grinned at him.

"Ugh, get that sappy shit out of here," he complained, waving his free hand in the air.

"Oh _please,_ you say that as if you don't blush when I kiss you on the cheek."

"I do not _blush!_ Malfoy's don't _blush_ ," Draco said matter-of-factly. " _You,_ on the other hand—"

Harry lifted Draco's hand to kiss his fingers. "You make me blush because you're so cute," he said, "and because I really like you."

Even Draco couldn't deny the flush that bloomed across his face at that statement. 

* * *

"Happy Christmas, Harry."

Harry grinned at Remus as he accepted the last gift, clearing aside discarded wrapping paper to make room for it on the floor. 

"It's from both of us," Sirius winked, "saved the best for last."

Everyone watched as Harry peeled back the wrapping paper to reveal a sturdy leather-bound photo album. The interesting thing, though, was that it wasn't filled with photos—it was filled with scraps of parchment instead. He studied the various handwritings that filled the parchment, noticing that one of them looked oddly similar to his own. 

"Fun fact about Hogwarts, Harry," Remus said when Harry looked to him in confusion, "is that your professors keep copies of every bit of parchment that passes through their hands during your time at Hogwarts, even the notes that are confiscated during class."

"Oh _no,"_ Ron said in horror, "that means they still have that drawing I did in charms—" he cut himself off, glancing nervously to his mum before shutting his mouth. 

" _Why,_ though?" Harry frowned. "What's the point?"

"Oh," Remus said, "it's from the recordkeeping portion of the Hogwarts constitution—article something-or-other—"

"Article 17, section 1.A.4," Hermione whispered to Harry under her breath.

"Er, yes, thank you Hermione—it requires that professors keep all academic materials for a certain number of years after a student's graduation. Therefore, it wasn't too difficult to gather these," he gestured to the album. 

"Which is…?" Harry looked through the scraps of parchment, skimming the notes. One of the scraps had a drawing of a golden snitch, with the letters _L.E_ in the center—

"It's all of the notes your mum and dad passed to each other during school," Sirius clarified, "well, the confiscated ones, at least."

Harry started at the pages in awe. That handwriting _was_ like his own—it was his dad's. "I–I don't know what to say," he said finally, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Thank you."

"Of course, Prongslet," Sirius reached forward to ruffle Harry's hair. "Now, there's just one thing," he leaned closer and lowered his voice. "There's probably a few in there that mention Remus and I—but you're seventeen now, you can handle it, right?" He glanced up at Mrs. Weasley, as if waiting for her to object. 

"Right," Harry nodded once, and cleared his throat. Now was his chance. "I wanted to ask you guys about that, actually."

Sirius raised an eyebrow but was interrupted before he could speak. 

"Oh look, another present!" Ron said loudly, grabbing another gift at random and spinning in a circle to locate its recipient. Harry smiled with gratitude at the obvious attempt to draw attention from him. 

"I was wondering, if you and Remus were together during school," Harry said to Sirius, "how did my mum and dad react?" 

"Oh Merlin, now _that's_ a funny story," Remus laughed. "You see, _they_ figured it out before we even did—they started leaving us alone together and making bets on when it would happen.”

Harry laughed. “Who won the bet?” 

“Lily, of course,” Remus answered, “she bet that it would happen the day we got back from holiday break in our fifth year.” 

“James was _way_ more upset about losing the bet than he was about the fact that his two best mates were dating,” Sirius added.

“So they were okay with—y’know…”

“The _us-being-gay_?” Remus raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, they were fine with it.” 

“Which is surprising, given that it was the 1970s,” Sirius added.

“Yeah, but honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he swung both ways,” Remus shrugged. “Remember fourth year, with your broth—”

 _“Remus we don’t talk about that!_ You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Well, um,” Harry looked back and forth between Sirius and Remus uncomfortably. “Thank you for the album.”

“Of course, Harry,” Remus smiled warmly. “Come here, will you?” He opened his arms and gestured Harry forward to give him a hug. “Happy Christmas.” 

Harry noticed that the hug Remus and Sirius gave him seemed a bit tighter than usual, and hoped they wouldn’t press the matter further. 

* * *

"So, Draco, did you have a nice day?"

Draco looked up from his new copy of _Tinctures and Transfiguration._ "I did, thanks mum," he answered, watching Narcissa settle into the couch across from him. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," she replied, flicking through her magazine for a few seconds before looking up. "Say, you haven't mentioned any of your classmates recently."

Draco shrugged. "Only Pansy came back for eighth year, so she's the only one I've really been speaking to."

Narcissa cleared her throat. "And Harry? I don't recall hearing any complaints about him recently."

"What?" Draco's head snapped in surprise, before schooling his features into a neutral expression. "What about him?"

"Oh, I'm just so used to hearing about him, that's all. I think I'll owl him, see how he's doing."

Draco swallowed. "Just don't invite him over for tea," he muttered, trying to sound annoyed. "I'm going to bed, night," he yawned, trying to leave quickly without looking suspicious. 

"Oh, I left one more present in your room," she said before Draco could leave, "I'd completely forgotten about it until this afternoon." 

Draco nodded, frowning as he headed for his room. It was odd for his mother to forget about a gift, especially around the holidays. 

Once he got a good look at the gift, though, it was obvious to him that she _hadn't_ actually forgotten about it—she'd obviously planned for him to open it in the privacy of his room. 

At first glance, it looked like a regular wizarding magazine with a ribbon bow attached—but once he got a closer look, Draco nearly jumped out of his skin, his face heating.

It was the latest copy of _The Outpost_ , one that featured two male Quidditch players on the cover (whom Draco recognized to be from Pride of Portree **.)**

And to his horror, this issue was a _'special'_ one, because it focused on safe sex between same-sex couples. 

_She knows._

Draco rubbed his temples. _This has to be a dream._ How could she have figured it out? Did this mean she _accepted him?_ It had to—why else would she be _helping_ him? And _how did she find out?_

Draco took three deep breaths to calm himself down before pulling the ribbon off the cover and hiding it in his bookcase. He'd think about it later—not now, when Harry would be over at any second. They hadn't talked about doing, well, _that_ , and Draco certainly didn't want that conversation to be initiated by a magazine that his mother had given him. 

He just hoped Harry had received his letter before he’d left the Burrow. 

* * *

After everyone had finally climbed into bed for the night, and Harry was waiting patiently for the right time to sneak out, he heard a soft tap on the window. He grabbed his glasses and shoved them on his face, squinting at the owl that stared at him through the glass.

An eagle owl _—must be from Draco, then._ Harry frowned, wondering what the message could possibly say.

"Wha's tha’?" Ron's voice was muffled from his pillow and slurred from sleep.

"Nothing, go back to sleep," Harry whispered, carefully sliding the window open to untie the note from the owl's leg.

He squinted at the narrow handwriting, barely legible under the dim moonlight, and by the time he finished reading, the owl was nowhere to be seen.

> _H-_
> 
> _Unfortunately, Father got a new book on wards for Christmas, and he's spent the evening reinforcing the wards on the Manor. This means my bedroom window is now heavily warded and will definitely alert Father if you snuck in._
> 
> _Luckily, the library's preservation charms seem to be interfering with the new spells he's using, which means those windows are still safe to use. (I know this because I've been watching my father stand in front of the window muttering charms and cursing under his breath for the last hour.)_
> 
> _I swear to Merlin, Potter, if you neglect to open your mail before you leave tonight and attempt to sneak through my window, you are dead, you hear me? Dead. Use the library windows or else. Go down the first stairs and turn left—you know which one is mine. _
> 
> _-D_

Harry snorted as he finished reading. _So dramatic._ He listened closely for the sound of Ron's breathing and waited a whole five minutes before deciding it was safe. 

He shoved the note into the pocket of his sweatpants and slid out of bed, carefully arranging the blankets to look as if he were sleeping. 

Avoiding the squeaky floorboards, he slowly made his way down to the kitchen. He was just about to put his shoes on when a figure appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Is everything alright, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked in a hushed voice.

"Er, yeah," Harry whispered back. "Just getting a glass of water." He made his way over to the sink and filled a glass with water for good measure and hoped she didn't notice that he was wearing his cloak. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Harry."

After finishing his glass and waiting for the sound of Mrs. Weasley going back to bed, he quietly shoved his shoes on and slipped out the door. 

He disapparated as soon as he was outside the wards, landing somewhere outside the Manor. Now it's only a matter of figuring where the _hell_ the library was. 

Thankfully, Draco had had the foresight to leave a broom on the ground below the window for him to use. 

Harry eased the window open and swung his leg over the ledge, tossing the broom back onto the ground once he was inside. He was regretting lending his invisibility cloak to Remus at that moment—it _really_ would have come in handy. 

He opted for a disillusionment charm, which, while imperfect, got the job done. 

_Go down the first stairs and turn left—you know which one is mine._

The Manor floorboards seemed to be creak-free, and Harry was able to find Draco's room without making a sound. He tapped lightly on the door, hoping he wouldn't have to knock loudly to be heard.

The door opened almost immediately, and Draco quickly grabbed his wrist to pull him inside. 

“Did everything go alright?” Draco asked him in a hushed tone, quietly closing the door. “No one saw you?”

“All good,” Harry whispered back, and immediately pulled Draco into a hug.

He made a small noise of surprise. “Hello to you, too,” he snorted, wrapping his arms around Harry’s torso.

“Guess what?” Harry lifted his head from Draco’s shoulder. “Remember what you said I should ask Remus and Sirius? About my parents?”

“Yes?”

 _“Well,_ ” Harry smiled, “I asked them. Turns out, my parents were the reason they started dating in the first place. They were _ecstatic_ when Sirius and Remus finally got together.”

Draco grinned. “That’s _great,_ Harry! I’m happy for you.” His expression faltered for a minute, as if something was bothering him, but it was gone so quickly that Harry thought he’d imagined it.

Harry was about to say something else when he tilted his head to the side. “You smell good,” he told Draco, “are you wearing cologne?”

“Mum got it for me,” Draco answered, moving to his bedside table to show Harry the bottle. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” Harry inspected the bottle that Draco handed to him and carefully returned it to the table. “What else did you get?”

Harry settled onto Draco’s bed as he launched into a description of the gifts he’d received for Christmas.

“I’m sorry,” Draco stopped abruptly and looked at Harry guiltily. “I haven’t asked what you got.”

“Huh? No, that’s okay,” he shook his head, “I—well, I like listening to you talk.”

“Do you, now?” Draco smirked and joined Harry on the bed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “Well, unfortunately for you, I’m all done. It’s your turn now—what’d you get?”

“Oh, er—” Harry paused. “Well, Ron got me a Chudley Cannons jersey, Hermione got me a study planner for N.E.W.T.S, Mrs. Weasley made me a new Weasley sweater—”

“ _‘Weasley’_ sweater?” Draco interrupted.

“Yeah, you know,” Harry gestured with his hands. “Mrs. Weasley makes one for each of us. I call them Weasley sweaters.”

“Ugh, you mean that horrid red jumper with the giant _‘H’?_ ” He groaned.

“It isn’t _horrid!_ Hey, I’ll have you know that the first Christmas gift I got after coming to Hogwarts was a Weasley sweater,” he told him matter-of-factly.

Draco hesitated before his smile returned to his face. “Well, at least it matches your awful fashion sense,” he said cheerfully, grabbing Harry’s hand and placing it in his lap.

Harry snorted. “As I was saying—Fred and George made this ring for me, look,” he stretched out his fingers to show Draco the silver ring on his index finger. “It alerts me if someone’s trying to sneak me a potion or spell, like if someone cursed my mail or spiked my drink with a love potion.”

“Do people actually _do_ that?” Draco asked him in horror.

“Do what?” Harry absentmindedly stroked the back of his hand.

“Do people actually—actually spike your… your drink with—” Draco closed his eyes tightly and huffed. _“C’mon,_ Harry, you _know_ I can’t concentrate when you do that!”

“Hm? What was that?” Harry asked innocently as he continued to trace lazy circles on his hand before darting forward to kiss Draco on the cheek. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Draco jerked his hand away like it was burning. _“Prat,”_ he muttered under his breath. “Harry, do people actually spike your drinks with _love potions?”_

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “It’s only been a few times,” he shrugged, “and besides, it’s never been Amortentia or anything. Just the stuff from Zonko’s. It’s no big deal.”

“ _‘No big—’_ ” Draco started, but he cut himself off when Harry looked at him with pleading eyes. _Drop it._

“Anyways,” Harry scooped up Draco’s free hand and linked their fingers together. “You know what Remus and Sirius gave me?” He paused for emphasis. “An album with all of the notes my mum and dad passed to each other during Hogwarts,” he said softly, “I spent all afternoon looking through it.”

“I love that,” he grinned. “How did they find all of the notes, though?”

“Turns out, the professors keep _everything,_ even notes confiscated during class,” Harry said wryly. “I know, who would have thought, right?”

“That’s a bit scary,” Draco admitted, before yawning. “Listen, I don’t know about you, but I’m going to bed.” He stood up and stretched his arms to the ceiling.

“Well, in _that_ case, I think I might take a short walk,” Harry teased, “nip down to the kitchen, say hello to your mum—”

“Oh, shut up and go to bed,” Draco rolled his eyes, and Harry laughed as he pushed him onto the bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The featherlight charm used in the beginning is canon, but there was no incantation for it, so I made one myself! 'Alevigo' comes from Latin 'ala' (wing/feather) and 'levigo' (I lighten) 
> 
> Also, I imagine a more simple/basic lightning charm would be something like 'levigatis' (a conjugation of levigo)


	2. Secrets Revealed, Part I

Harry slowly eased the window shut, wincing at the sound of his joints cracking. He was about to cast a disillusionment charm when his heart nearly stopped at the sight of a shadowy figure sitting in the corner of the library. 

“Good evening, Mr. Potter,” the figure used their wand to illuminate the room, and Harry had to squint at the bright light.

“Er, hello Mrs. Malfoy,” Harry said sheepishly. His heart was racing, but not necessarily from what might happen to _him—_ he was worried about how Draco’s parents would react to the fact that their son is gay.

Narcissa lifted a cup of tea and took a long sip. “You are _aware_ that we have a front door, yes?”

“Um.” That wasn’t the reaction Harry was expecting. “I’m sorry?”

“There is _no need_ for you to come crawling in through the window when there is a perfectly good front door just downstairs,” she said sharply.

“Right,” Harry swallowed, “yeah. I’ll do that from now on.” _That is, if I’m allowed back after this,_ he thought.

Narcissa studied him for a moment, causing him to squirm. “How long have you been involved with my son?” she asked finally.

 _That_ was more like the reaction he’d been expecting. “I don’t know, maybe…two months? Since mid-October?” 

She pursed her lips. “Now, I understand that school-age relationships are typically more... _casual,”_ she said carefully, “so I don’t necessarily expect that you care deeply for my son. However, he isn’t one to trust easily—if he opens up to you, don’t take it lightly.”

“I do care,” Harry frowned, “and I’m the same way, I think.”

“Now,” Narcissa said primly, “I trust you two are using protection?”

Harry blinked at her. “What?”

“Because just because there isn’t any pregnancy involved doesn’t mean—”

“Oh! _Oh._ No!” Harry interrupted frantically, his face turning red. “No, Draco and I aren’t—we aren’t doing… _that_ —”

“Do you _plan_ to?”

“Um, I don’t know?” He stammered, wishing the ground would swallow him up. “None of this was _planned_. I’m just—we’re just doing whatever feels right.”

“Good answer,” Narcissa nodded. “When the time comes, just ask Draco for the charms. I expect you never learned of them growing up.”

“Right,” Harry scratched the back of his neck, hoping she couldn’t see how red he was in the wandlight.

“Now go on,” she waved at him. “Don’t keep my son waiting.”

He nodded quickly and hurried into the hallway, taking the stairs two steps at a time to Draco’s room. 

Harry knocked twice on Draco's door before opening it. "Hey, so—"

"Potter!" Draco hissed, motioning for Harry to keep his voice down. "Be _quiet!_ And what took you so long?”

“Your mum,” Harry said sheepishly. “She caught me.”

“She _what?”_ Draco yelped, jumping to his feet. "What did she say?"

"Er, something about using the front door?" Harry laughed awkwardly. "And something about—about _protection charms?"_

 _"Shit,_ " Draco slapped his forehead. "I should've known."

"Known what?"

"I should've warned you—she gave me this for Christmas," Draco went over to his bookcase and retrieved a magazine from where it'd been hiding between two thick textbooks. 

"So she figured it out, then," Harry studied the cover Draco was holding, "or at least, she figured _you_ out first, then she investigated.” He covered his face with his hands. “Oh, that was so _embarrassing.”_

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it—” Draco went to return the magazine to its hiding place. “I was too freaked out to even _think_ about what it might mean, and—"

"Hey," Harry grabbed his wrist and pulled him close, wrapping his arms around his waist. "It's okay. You just needed time to process."

Draco nodded, resting his head on Harry's shoulder. "At least it'll be easier from now on," he mumbled into Harry's cloak. 

"No kidding," Harry agreed, "hey, come here." Draco lifted his head so that Harry could capture his lips with his own. "Mhm, much better. Anyways, I was thinking—maybe I could tell Remus and Sirius?"

"You want to tell _them_ before you tell your friends?" 

Harry shrugged. "I'm nervous to tell Ron and Hermione. I mean, I _know_ they'll accept me, but it isn't the same as telling someone who's been through the same thing," he paused. “How did you come out to Pansy?”

Draco shrugged. “She found my porn stash in fifth year.”

Harry choked. “Your _what?”_

“Kidding! She came out to me in fourth year and then asked me if I liked boys.”

Harry sighed and shook his head. “I think I’ll want to wait to tell Ron and Hermione. Besides, I don’t know how Remus and Sirius will react.”

“You already _know_ how they’ll react,” Draco pointed out, “they’re _gay,_ of course they’ll accept you.”

“No, I mean,” Harry shifted uncomfortably, “I don’t know how they’ll react to _you_ ; you know?”

“Oh.” The smile slid off of Draco’s face. “What will happen if—if they don’t react well?”

“You mean, what will happen to us?”

Draco nodded. 

“Absolutely _nothing,”_ Harry said fiercely. “I don’t care what _anyone_ thinks—I care about you, and I’m not going to let anything change that.”

“You’re sure? But—”

“I’m _sure,”_ Harry said. “Besides, why would I have spent the last two weeks sneaking into your bedroom at night if I didn’t care?” 

“That’s true,” Draco admitted, slumping his shoulders. “Alright.”

“See?" He tightened his arms around Draco and sighed in contentment. "Of course I care," he leaned back to give him a kiss on the cheek. 

"Yeah, I get it," Draco said, and added, "what is _with_ you right now? You're so… so…"

"It's okay, take your time," Harry smirked. 

"Oh shut up, you prat. You're so _affectionate_ right now, what's with that?"

"I dunno," Harry shrugged easily and tightened his arms around Draco. "I just feel really lucky to have you." He leaned back for a moment and watched Draco with amusement. "Are you _complaining?"_

"Don't be _stupid,_ Potter," Draco huffed, letting his head fall back onto Harry's shoulder. "Of course not."

* * *

Harry waited until it was just Sirius and Remus left in the kitchen before saying anything. “Hey, can I talk to you?” he asked.

“Of course pup, is everything alright?” Sirius turned in his chair to look at him.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Harry said, standing awkwardly at the edge of the table. “It’s just… remember how I asked you how my mum and dad reacted when you guys started dating?” He waited for them to nod before continuing. “Well, one of the reasons I asked was because—” Harry started nervously, looking down at the table, “because I wanted to know how they'd react if I…came out to them.”

“Harry…” Remus said gently, prompting Harry to look up. “Are you coming out to _us_?”

“Er, I guess? Yeah.”

“Oh, _come here,_ Harry,” Sirius quickly stood up and pulled him into a hug. “I’m proud of you, you know?”

“You didn’t think we wouldn’t accept you, did you?” Remus got out of his chair to join them. “Because we do! So much!”

“Its…it’s not that,” Harry admitted, and both Sirius and Remus pulled away to look at him. “I’m seeing someone,” he swallowed hard. “And I don’t know if you’ll accept them.”

Remus scoffed. “Oh _please—_ you say that as if I’m not a gay, half-blood werewolf who’s married to a disowned ex-convict.”

“Hey, I’m gay too!” Sirius frowned. “Harry, I’m sure whoever it is, we’ll—”

“It’s Draco Malfoy.”

Remus blinked. “Draco Malfoy as in... _Lucius Malfoy’s son?_ ”

“As in, the kid who’s antagonized you since first year?” Sirius added.

“To be fair, I was antagonizing him back. But he’s _different_ now _!”_ Harry insisted. “He’s _changed!_ He even apologized to Ron and Hermione at the beginning of the year!”

Remus studied him for a moment before sighing. “Is he treating you well?” 

Harry bit his lip and smiled, thinking about the night before when Draco had talked him through a nightmare and stroked his hair until he fell back asleep. “Yeah, he is.”

“Oh, I know that look,” Sirius said to Remus knowingly. “I _suppose_ I trust your judgement.” He sighed dramatically, before smiling. “I’m happy for you.”

“You know what, between you and me—” Remus leaned towards Harry and lowered his voice. “I think you’re pretty lucky.”

Harry frowned. “You do?”

“Yeah, definitely,” he answered. “You see, Draco is a Black, on his mother’s side. And what can I say—” Remus winked at Sirius. “Blacks are _great_ in bed.”

“Oh, _god,”_ Harry pressed his hands to his face. “I don’t want to hear that!’

“What can I say?” Sirius added, “we’ve both gotten _very_ adept at silencing charms, haven’t we Rem?”

“Alright, that’s it!” Harry threw his hands in the air. “No more! Conversation over, goodbye!” 

Sirius and Remus were still laughing as he ran up the stairs.


	3. Secrets Kept, Part II

"Now, add the crushed beetle and stir eleven times, counterclockwise."

Harry did as he was told, being sure to count on his fingers so he wouldn't lose track. "Then what?"

"Recrystallized brimstone," Draco answered, grabbing the carefully-measured amount of sulfur. As he reached across the table, he deliberately shoved Harry's shoulder, which nearly caused him to splash their potion. 

_"Watch it,_ Malfoy!" Harry grumbled as he barely managed to stay upright. "You're going to mess up the potion.” He lowered his voice. “What are you _doing?”_ He hissed to Draco.

Draco jerked his head towards the door and gave him a pointed look.

 _“What?"_ Harry stared at him, trying to decide whether Draco was trying to signal something or if he was having a stroke.

“Never mind,” Draco muttered, before raising his voice. “ _Please,_ Potter, if anyone is going to mess up the potion, it'll be you," he retorted loudly, ignoring the way Hermione watched the interaction surreptitiously. 

It was all a ruse, of course. After all, they had to maintain to _some_ level of disagreement between them if they were to keep their relationship a secret. It wasn't that difficult, anyway—the banter came naturally to them, and Harry was actually starting to find it enjoyable. Not that he let anyone know that, of course. 

"Whatever, just tell me what's next," Harry said as he continued to stir at the most even pace he could manage. 

"Let stand until it turns to a mild yellow, then add the moss," Draco instructed, watching as Harry stopped stirring. "Then we'll siphon out the precipitate that forms." The potion slowly shifted from a dark green to a pale, cloudy yellow as it settled. 

"Now?" Harry held the moss in his hand, waiting for Draco's cue.

As soon as the moss was submerged, it began to bubble rapidly, emitting thick steam and changing to a bright red color. Harry jumped back as their potion exploded, splattering them in thick liquid.

 _"Fuck,_ Potter, did you add Irish moss instead of sea moss?" Draco demanded, angrily wiping the potion out of his eyes. 

Harry opened his mouth to protest that _Draco_ was the one to get the ingredients in the first place, so if anything, it was _his fault._ But before he could get a word in, Snape swept by, quickly vanishing the contents of their cauldron. 

"Hospital wing, both of you," he drawled. "Seems like being famous has nothing to do with actual skill, does it, Mr. Potter? Ten points from Gryffindor for your _incompetence_." 

Harry scowled as he followed Draco into the hall, ignoring the Slytherins' snickers as he passed them. 

"What the _hell_ was that?" Harry demanded as soon as they were in the hall. "Why would you intentionally get the _wrong ingredients—_ this stuff could be caustic!" He wiped his face with his hand and examined his fingers. 

" _Relax,_ Potter— _scourgify,"_ Draco cleaned the potion off both of them with a flick of his wand. "It's perfectly safe—just _sal gemmae_ and air in a solution of _aqua vitae_. Couldn't hurt a Pygmy Puff. Don't you trust me? Now, come on." 

"Hey!" Harry protested as Draco grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him down the corridor, "where are we going?"

Draco quickly turned the corner and ducked into an alcove, pulling Harry along with him.

"What are you—"

Harry was cut off when Draco spun him around, pushing him up against the wall and kissing him hard. Harry's hands instinctually went to Draco's hair as his confusion and indignation vanished from his mind. 

Draco pulled away and grinned satisfactorily at the dumbfounded look on Harry's face. "You were saying?" He asked sweetly, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear.

"You…." Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Did you really just _sabotage_ our potion so we could _snog_?"

"What can I say?" Draco answered, running his gaze down Harry’s disheveled uniform. "It was worth it."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I can't believe you."

"Hey, that was high praise! Shouldn't you be _thanking_ me, Potter? And besides—"

Now it was Draco's turn to be interrupted as Harry kissed him again, making sure to show him _just how much_ he appreciated him.

"Thank you," Harry said cheekily as he pulled away, admiring the flush across Draco's cheeks.

* * *

“It’s a shame you didn’t get to finish your potion, Harry,” Hermione told him during dinner. “The mechanism behind it is _fascinating,_ I’m disappointed you didn’t get to try it.”

“Yeah, too bad,” Harry said absentmindedly. It was difficult to concentrate on anything she was saying when all he could think about was Draco, and how just moments earlier, Harry had him pushed up against the wall—

“Did Pomfrey give you a hard time?” Ron’s voice pulled him out of his daydream.

“Huh? Oh, right.” He’d forgotten that they’d been sent to the hospital wing after their potion exploded. “No, not really. She didn’t even try to keep me overnight.”

Ron shoveled mashed potatoes into his mouth. “Why would she do that?”

“Oh, you know how she is,” Hermione wrinkled her nose at Ron. “She’s always looking for some reason to keep you. And honestly, I don’t blame her, considering that you always manage to turn up to the hospital wing unconscious.”

“Hey,” Harry protested, “there was the time my arm bones were missing. And the time _you_ were unconscious!”

“And the time Ron was unconscious,” she added. “Wait a minute,” she said, leaning towards Harry and frowning.

“Huh? What’s wrong—what are you _doing?”_ Harry asked, bewildered as Hermione grabbed a fistful of his robes and pressed them to her nose, inhaling deeply. 

“Are you wearing _cologne_?” 

“What? No!” Harry lifted his sleeve to smell them himself, but he couldn’t smell anything. 

“No, you’ve definitely got something on, mate,” Ron shook his head. “I can smell you from across the bloody table. _Why_ are you wearing col—”

“I’m _not_!” Harry interrupted.

“Maybe he wants to _impress someone._ ” Hermione smirked at Harry before returning to her dinner. 

“Hey, I could be wearing it for _myself,_ you know.”

“So you are?” 

“No!” Harry sighed loudly. “Why does it matter?”

“ _Y_ _ou’re_ the one being defensive,” Hermione laughed. ‘Now finish your dinner or I’ll send you to Pomfrey.”


	4. Secrets Revealed, Part II

“Pssst, Harry,” Hermione whispered to him from across their library desk. “Do you remember what Snape said the other day about solvation during potions?”

Harry frowned. “I just assumed it was the same thing as solubility,” he whispered back.

Hermione huffed. “No, of course it’s not! Solubility is the ability for something to dissolve, solvation is… something different, I guess,” she stared at her textbook. “I’m going to find Draco,” she said finally, pushing back her chair to stand.

“What? Why?” Harry asked, trying not to sound frantic.  _ Does she know? _

“Because he’s always in the library in the evening, and he’ll know how to explain it,” she said, as if it were obvious. “I’ll be right back.”

Harry turned back to his essay, wondering what Hermione  _ expected  _ to happen, given that Harry and Draco were constantly fighting (only in public, of course.) He also wondered  _ when _ , exactly, had Hermione memorized Draco’s study schedule?

“So I think I understand the basics,” Hermione was telling Draco as she returned to their desk. “It has something to do with stability, right? So, if solvation is acting on a potion, it’ll be less reactive? But I can’t find a mention of it in our potions textbook,” she complained, holding up her copy of  _ Advanced Potion-Making: Volume II. _ “And there’s just a single sentence in this one,” she pointed to a copy of  _ Hindering Reactions.  _

“That’s your problem, then,” Draco said, examining the textbooks strewn across the desk. “Solvation doesn’t have much effect when it comes to stability—it mostly affects how acetous or alkaline a potion is. Hang on.”

He disappeared to search through the shelves, leaving Harry wondering whether he should be disappointed or relieved that Draco hadn’t so much as  _ glanced _ at him.

When he returned (with a copy of “ _ From Acetous to Alkaline: a Measure of Escharoticks, _ ”) he sat with his back to Harry and launched into an explanation. 

At least that made things easy for him, Harry supposed. He could concentrate on his essay and ignore Draco instead of watching him out of the corner of his eye. 

With Hermione busy, Harry couldn’t ask her for help on his Charms essay, so he resorted to finding a textbook that would have the answer he was looking for. “Be right back,” he said over his shoulder as he left the desk.

“So, does that make sense?” Draco asked her, tapping his finger on the page. “Solvation is one of the reasons why using a different base can drastically change the potion—it can change how acetous or alkaline an ingredient is, which changes how it interacts with the rest of the potion.”

“Yeah, I think so,” Hermione nodded, “and the biggest difference is when you swap between a base of  _ aqua vitae  _ and a base of spirit of aethyr, right?”

“Right,” he agreed, “spirit of aethyr doesn’t create solvation at all, but  _ aqua vitae _ does, so they have the largest difference of an ingredient’s alkalinity between them.”

“Brilliant, thanks,” Hermione crossed out a few lines in her notes and paused, looking back up at Draco. “Hey, are you wearing something? Like, cologne?” It was the same scent that she’d picked up on Harry the other day—which was either a strange coincidence, or something was going on.

“Um,” Draco shifted uncomfortably, “not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I am,” he answered. 

Hermione nodded absentmindedly, then paused. Her eyes shifted to focus on Harry, who was browsing the shelves behind him. Then it clicked.

“I better get going,” Draco said as he packed up his things, seemingly oblivious to Hermione’s realization. 

“Thanks for your help,” she answered, and she was watching him retreat from the library when Harry finally returned to the table. 

“Did Draco help with your question?” 

The familiarity with which Harry said his name... “Yeah, it makes  _ loads  _ more sense now.”

“Oh, good,” Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “Then can you help me with charms? I tried to look it up but couldn’t find anything.”

Hermione shook her head in amusement. “Of course.” 

* * *

“Have you noticed anything weird going on with Harry lately?”

Hermione blinked, glancing up from her notes. “What was that, Ron?” She asked, feigning innocence.

“You know, he’s been  _ weird, _ ” Ron frowned, “like something’s changed—like he’s in a better mood now. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for him. You know what I mean?”

She shrugged. “I’ve got no idea what you’re on about,” she said dismissively.

“Oh, come off it, ‘Mione,” Ron sighed, “don’t play dumb; you’re  _ awful _ at it.” 

Hermione raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face. “What have you noticed?”

“I dunno, he’s just doing better. He’s been having fewer nightmares, but he also keeps leaving in the middle of the night to do… something, I guess.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Have you noticed that Malfoy is less of a prat now, too?”

“He’s been that way since the start of the year,” Hermione pointed out, rolling her eyes.

“No, but even  _ more _ so,” Ron insisted. “Like, Harry used to get  _ so _ worked up when he and Malfoy went at each other, but now he’s almost...  _ happy _ afterwards.” He narrowed his eyes at Hermione. “C’mon, what do you know? Spill.”

“It’s—” she hesitated. “It’s not  _ confirmed.” _

_ “What _ isn’t confirmed?”

“I can’t  _ tell _ you, it  _ isn’t confirmed!” _ She insisted. 

Ron paused for a moment. “There’s something going on between Harry and Malfoy, isn’t there?” He made a face when Hermione didn’t say anything. “Oh there  _ is,  _ isn’t there? Bloody  _ hell,  _ Hermione, say something.”

Hermione schooled her face into neutrality. “I’m not going to confirm nor deny anything,” she said primly. “You’ll have to ask Harry yourself.”

“Alright then, where is he?”

“He’s helping some sixth years with defense,” she answered, “I think he’ll be back soon—” she looked up as the door to their common room swung open. “Hey, Harry! How was defense?”

“Brilliant,” Harry grinned, joining them on the couch, “they’re really getting the hang of it.”

“Hey, I was thinking,” Hermione said casually, “for our study session tomorrow morning—”

“Blimey, I forgot about that,” Ron groaned. “I should never have agreed to that.”

“Oh,  _ hush,  _ Ron.  _ Anyways, _ I was thinking we should ask Draco to join us.”

“Huh?” Harry looked up from the fire. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Well, he  _ is _ one of the best in our year—I think he’d be a valuable resource to have,” she explained, giving Harry a pointed look.

Harry looked to Ron for support, before realizing that he wasn’t protesting her suggestion at all. “Hang on,” he looked back and forth between his friends as they stared at him. “You know something, don’t you?” he pointed his finger accusingly at them.

“Know what?” Hermione asked innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you don’t?” Harry lowered his hand uncertainly. “Oh.”

“Well, what I  _ do _ know,” she added, “is that you can tell us  _ anything,  _ you know that? Anything at all.”

Harry sighed. “You  _ do _ know,” his shoulders slumped. “Merlin, how did you figure it out?”

“I  _ definitely  _ don’t know what you mean,” Ron said sarcastically. He added in a whisper, “Harry, Hermione won’t confirm it. You’re going to have to say it.”

“You know about me and Draco!” Harry gestured wildly with his hands. “That’s why you want him to join our study session.  _ How the hell did you figure it out?” _

“Cologne,” Hermione said wryly, “I smelled his cologne on you.”

“You’re also never upset after your fights anymore,” Ron added. “C’mon, did you really think we wouldn’t notice anything?”

“I guess not,” Harry said dejectedly. “You’re not mad, are you? I just didn’t know how to say it because, well, he’s  _ Draco,  _ and I hadn’t even told you I liked guys in the first place—”

“Harry, of  _ course _ we’re not mad.  _ It’s okay.”  _ Hermione shifted on the couch to wrap an arm around him.

“I mean, it’s okay that you like guys,” Ron clarified. “The whole  _ ‘dating-Malfoy’  _ thing—well, that’s questionable.”

_ “Ronald!” _ Hermione swatted at his shoulder, and Harry laughed when Ron held up his hands in mock-defense. 

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” He said. “Besides, he’s much less of a git nowadays. But I’m sure you already know that,” he added. 

Harry snorted. “Yeah, no shit.”

“Wait a minute,” Ron’s eyes widened in realization. “Is  _ that _ where you were sneaking off to during Christmas? To shack up with Malfoy?”

He started. “What? What are you talking about?”

Ron huffed. “Mum and dad mentioned that there was someone going through the wards every night,” he looked pointedly at Harry. “I stayed awake one night and you left—I assumed you were just going on midnight walks, or something.”

Harry flushed. “I thought you were asleep!”

“Oh  _ please, _ I have five brothers—I am  _ not _ a heavy sleeper.”

“ _ Merlin _ ,” Harry buried his face in his hands. “I can’t believe you  _ knew— _ why didn’t you say anything?”

“Oh, you know how it is,” Hermione waved her hand dismissively. “We know you’ll come to us if there’s something bothering you. There’s no sense in nagging you about it.” She leaned towards Harry and lowered her voice. “You _are_ using protection, though, right?”

“Oh my  _ God _ Hermione, I do  _ not _ want to have this conversation with you!” 

Hermione raised her hands in surrender when both Harry and Ron stared at her in horror.

* * *

“Good morning,” Draco said primly as he approached the library desk. “Granger, Weasley,” he nodded. “Potter.”

Harry gave him a tentative smile. “Did you get my message?” Before he’d gone to bed the night before, he’d sent a quick note to Draco so he’d know what to expect.

“Yeah,” Draco answered awkwardly, keeping his back unnaturally straight as he sat at the desk. “The kneazle’s out of the bag, huh?”

“Yup.” Harry cleared his throat.

“Well, this is awkward.” Ron said after a long silence.

“Well, it would be a whole lot  _ less _ awkward if you’d  _ do your homework like you’re supposed to.”  _ Hermione looked up from her parchment. “Honestly.”

“Alright, alright,” Ron sighed, reaching across the table to steal a piece of Harry’s parchment. “And, you know, why do we even call it  _ home _ work if we aren’t doing it at  _ home?” _

Harry snorted, drawing the attention of everyone at the table. “Bold of you to assume I  _ have _ a home,” he snickered.

Hermione’s jaw dropped. “ _ Harry!” _

“I’m kidding, I’m  _ kidding!” _ Harry held up his hands in surrender as everyone stared at him in horror. “It’s a  _ joke,  _ you’re supposed to  _ laugh! _ Besides, it’s not even true anymore. I’ve got  _ two  _ homes now.” He waited for everyone to relax before adding, “I mean, that’s loads more than I used to have.”

“Oh, Merlin,” Ron pinched the bridge of his nose.

Harry felt a hand slip into his and looked over at Draco, smiling sheepishly. He felt almost guilty until Draco squeezed his hand and winked.

“Okay, one thing I don’t get,” Ron interrupted. “Why do you still argue all the time if you supposedly  _ like _ each other?”

“Well, it’s not like it’s that difficult to pretend.” Harry shrugged.

“Yeah,” Draco agreed, finally relaxing. “I mean, Harry’s so clumsy, so it makes him a really easy target for deprecating humor.”

“Hey!” Harry protested. “I’m not  _ that _ clumsy!”

“Ehh, I have to agree with him,” Ron said sympathetically. “I’ve seen you trip over your own feet more times than I can count.”

“Oh, shut up and do your homework,” Harry grumbled, using his free hand to throw a wadded-up piece of parchment at Ron’s head. He turned to Draco and gestured to his parchment. “Hey, can you help me with this?” 

“Sure,” Draco scooted his chair closer and leaned in, making sure to press his shoulder up against Harry’s. “What do you need help with?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Ron going red-faced at the sight of their close proximity, and he laughed when Ron positioned his textbook in front of his face, his bright red hair and the top of his matching forehead barely visible above. 

“Nothing, I just wanted to see Ron’s reaction,” Harry said cheekily, kissing Draco on the cheek.

“I’m going to have to get used to this, aren’t I?” Ron said mournfully, letting his head to the desk. “Bloody hell.”


End file.
